


Daddy's Got A Gun

by Chummy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, They go on dates, akira loves him though, goro and his daddy issues, its cute i promise, n thats what matters, sojiro being the dad akechi deserved, thank u royal, this isnt as angsty as my other fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chummy/pseuds/Chummy
Summary: “Akira told me you were coming by late, I wanted to see you. Been awhile since you came by after all,” Sojiro said.“You wanted to see me?” Akechi questioned, breathless with the implications of it. Surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Leblanc, being told  he was missed by Sojiro, was almost too much for him.“Of course, was starting to worry if I didn't watch your interviews,” Sojiro replied evenly, unaware of the turmoil growing inside Akechi.( Or, the one where Sojiro is the dad Akechi always deserved. )
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 17
Kudos: 298
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	Daddy's Got A Gun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this has been on my mind for a bit, I just love Sojiro being a father figure to the PTs, and you know who is a PT with daddy issues? thats right baby.  
> Title from Hayloft - Mother Mother  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zoldyke_)

  
  


It took Akechi approximately 30 seconds of one visit to Shido’s office to confirm his feelings towards his estranged father. 

The atmosphere was stuffy, cold steel air and at the center of it all was Masayoshi Shido, filling the office with an aura of suffocating pride. Akechi couldn’t breathe. 

Not one to not speak his mind, but one hell of a liar, he complimented what he could. The exemplary whisky and prizes Shido had displayed, glittering in their glass case. 

Shido only smirked, waving a hand and offering him a seat. His glasses the only shield from his piercing gaze, Akechi could feel crawling on his skin. 

“How old are you?” Shido had asked, leaning back on his chair, one leg crossed over the other, mirroring Akechi’s own pose. Picture perfect image of nonchalance and arrogant power. 

“Fifteen,” he answered, uncrossing his own legs, sitting rigid as Shido looked him up and down at his response. Akechi felt all the air leave his lungs, he decided to focus on the windows behind Shido, not daring to meet his eyes.

The silence stayed only a few seconds longer. 

“Young and brilliant, a good combo for a bright future,” Shido words cut through the air, behind him Akechi could see all of Japan.

They were so high up. 

He laughed and nodded along, distantly he wondered, how strong the glass behind Shido could possibly be.

Shido continued his interview, asking him what Akechi could bring, what he could do for him. Listening aptly when Akechi describes his new found powers and pretending to be surprised by the lack of disbelief Shido displayed. 

As he answered he wondered, how hard a fall from this height would feel. How long would it take for a grown man to hit the bottom.

“I look forward to your contributions,” Shido had said, and stood to shake his hand. Akechi tried to suppress the goosebumps and reflex to pull his hand away when his skin made contact with Shido’s palm.

Uncalloused, smooth, the hands of a man who sits in an office all day and tells people what to do. 

“As do I,” he lied, smiling bright eyes and earnestly. As he looked at the lights of the city below reflecting on the high windows, a sight he would soon become overtly familiar with, he made the mental note to buy gloves. 

➖

It took Akechi approximately 30 seconds of one visit to Leblanc to confirm Sae’s high praises of the establishment.

The atmosphere was homey, comfortable and barren enough to feel secluded in the middle of a bustling neighborhood.

Akechi loved it right away, the day time alternative to the jazz bar he loves to frequent. 

Not one to not speak his mind, he doesn’t spare any compliments to Sojiro Sakura and his subsequent ward, Akira. 

Sojiro always brushes the compliments off, a nonchalant wave of humbleness that the smirk on his face refutes. 

Akira always smiles, accepts the compliments with a thanks and air of pride. Akechi can’t help but think it suits him. 

Akira was at Leblanc most of the time Akechi showed up, and if he wasn’t it wasn’t long before he would show. 

The times he was working were amusing. He would watch as Akira worked the few orders of regulars, and then try to fill the remainder of his time by pretending to keep busy. Wiping the same spot, pretending to watch tv, ignoring the same pompous customer that couldn’t catch a hint. 

Akechi decided to take pity on him one day, and if he was honest, he had grown bored of watching Akira meander through his chores. As an itch under his skin grew to have Akira’s eyes on him. 

He ignored it as he asked “Can I get your opinion on something?” He wasted no time as he slipped open the locks on his case, pulling out case files that should be classified but there was no one around so what was the harm?

Akira’s head tilted in question, eyes gleaming with quiet excitement as he started to look over the papers. 

“A case?” he asked, Akechi could only see his glasses and top of his hair as Akira held the papers to his face. He smiled.

“Yeah, I was just wondering your thoughts on it,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Asking help from the common folk now?” Akira snorted, undignified and the sound made Akechi’s cheeks warm.

“You're anything but common,” it was out of his mouth before he could stop it, he hid his face as he gulped down from his coffee cup. 

Akira laughed, loud in a way only he could be. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

_Idiot_ , Akechi thought. 

“Take it how you want,” he said, a smile on his lips that shouldn’t have been as fond as it was. 

  
  


➖

Shido didn’t see him in his office as often anymore as his popularity as a Detective Prince grew. Something about reducing the chances of them being seen together, Akechi didn’t really listen to Shido’s strategies anymore, only nodding along and intervening when one of his suited henchmen got too carried away. 

That didn’t mean he was interacting with Shido less. The phone calls were daily. The texts, thankfully, not as constant. Only ever a confirmation of a job well done.

The shrill ringing of his phone vibrated on the cheap walls of his apartment. Akechi refuses to call it a home. It was dull, devoid of any personal artifacts except his clothes and a few gifts he’d received from television producers and fan girls alike. Some lay in the corner of his room, still unopened. 

He wondered what the media would think of him if they saw his apartment. They’d probably name him a productive minimalist and preach praises about how eco friendly he is. 

He let the phone ring, twice, three times before picking up. Taking a deep breath as he said hello. Rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth at Shido’s voice on the other end.

“New target, done by the end of this week, I’ll send you the details now,” Shido ordered, not even sparing Akechi a greeting. The pit in his stomach opened up, as it always did when he heard those words, no orders. Like always, he swallowed it down.

He can’t remember when the facade of a concerned politician for the youth had dropped between them, but it happened fast. Fast enough Akechi can’t remember times where Shido greeted him like a person. 

“Yes sir,” he replied, keeping the venom from his voice with a scowl Shido couldn’t see. Personally he enjoyed the phone calls much more than face to face because of that he only had to perform with his voice. 

“Once you get it, memorize it and delete the message,” Shido said, a broken record of every single time in the past two years he had said the same thing.

“Of course,” What did he take him for? An idiot? He had done this enough times now. Each time without fail. Each time feeling more and more nothingness as he pulled the trigger. 

Shido didn’t spare him a goodbye either. Akechi doesn't know why he keeps wanting one. 

He gets the message a minute later, the pit opens up again and this time swallows him whole.

A train conductor. 

He doesn’t sleep that night, yet he dreams of the view of Japan from Shido’s office and a single gunshot. 

➖

The next week he’s back at Leblanc, this time Akira isn’t there. He doesn’t take the time to think about why he’s so disappointed about that. Instead Sojiro keeps him company, the tv’s plays on in the background and Akechi is talking. Sojiro is listening. 

It feels good. 

“I got stumped on one question however,” He was retelling the story of his final exams, how he had gotten a bit confused with one essay question. He doesn’t tell him how he skimped on studying because he had killed a man.

“I doubt that’s gonna be enough to harm your grade though, I wouldn’t worry much kid. Although it’s easy to say, can’t say i’m half the perfectionist you are,” Sojiro says easily, smiling at Akechi and it feels so easy to return the smile back.

“Hopefully you’re right,” he laughs softly, sipping from his coffee “Hm this tastes like,”

“Don’t overthink it kid, you’ve gotten it so far,” Sojiro said as he smiled. He returned it from the lip of the cup, closing his eyes as he tried to guess the correct bean Sojiro had used. 

This game had started recently, with a simple question on different coffee tastes and beans, Sojiro had let him sample and explained the difference between the ones he carried. Now his Leblanc visits included new coffee experiences and guessing games. 

“Blue mountain?”

“Good job!” He clapped once and Akechi couldn’t help but beam with pride. “Yeah I wish Akira could get the hang of this like you, but then again when you're serving it it’s not like you get to drink what you make.” He finished as Akira walked through the door. 

The sun was setting low behind him, it beaming softly through the open door, silhouetting Akira in warm oranges and pinks. He looks radiant and for the first time in Leblanc, Akechi can’t breathe.

“You’re home awfully late,” he says, and he doesn’t know where it comes from. The itch beneath his skin grows and grows more as Akira smiles at him when their eyes meet.

“Honey I’m home,” Akira replies, easily, domestically. Akechi laughs with empty lungs behind his gloves.

Akira opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off by the breaking news alert. A rerun of the story that had broken earlier today.

A freak accident in the subway.

And Shido’s opinion on it. 

He goes stiff and tries not to show it. He hates the way his hands shake as they reach for his cup and ignores the look Sojiro gives him as he brings it to his lips. Acting as unaffected as possible. 

The coffee is lukewarm, it takes everything in him to not spit it out. 

From the corner of his eye he can see Akira shake his head as if remembering something. Unfocused eyes staring at the tv where Shido had been not moments ago. 

“Not a fan of politicians?” he grits out, he curses inwardly at his tone. Unable to keep the spite from it.

Akira seems to come back to himself at that, smiling a bit, his usual smile. Akechi’s stomach flutters and his hands clench in annoyance at the feeling. 

“Just corrupt ones, I have a friend trying to get into the Diet actually,” he replies evenly and Akechi doesn’t hide the surprise on his face.

“I hope you’re kidding, you really need to get more friends your age,” Sojiro answered before he had the chance. Akechi laughed as Akira only shrugged, not confirming or denying the validity of his statement.

If any of his other tales of Yakuza bosses and underground doctors is true, Akechi can safely assume he’s being horribly honest. He decides to keep the information to himself as Sojiro is only a few feet away from him, watching their interaction steadily. 

Something about the way he stared made Akechi’s stomach fill with a dread he couldn’t place. He decided it was time to go. 

“Stay awhile won’t you detective?” Akira said before Akechi could get his goodbyes out. Something in the way Akira’s eyes gleamed when he said that is the only reason Akechi stayed until closing.

Nothing else. 

➖

A day later he is at Shido’s office, called in to celebrate. Not unusual but completely unwelcome, Akechi decides. Despite how he quickened his pace when he arrives.

The sun is setting low behind Shido, the office is bathed in yellows that catch on all the gold and dark wood that decorate Shido’s office. It’s blinding, Akechi muses inwardly about that being the reason why Shido wears those ridiculous tinted glasses of his. 

He’s pouring himself a glass of a whiskey with a name Akechi can't or isnt bothered to pronounce correctly, He sends him a smile full of sharp teeth as acknowledgment before pouring a glass for Akechi. His fingers touch leather gloves briefly as Shido hands him the glass and Akechi isn't proud of the flinch he contains. 

A habit he hadn't been able to outgrow despite the two years he's already spent in Shido’s sickening presence.

“Good job on the train conductor, the results have been exactly what we needed,” Shido speaks first as Akechi settles into his usual chair. The farthest from Shido, yet directly in front. 

“Thank you sir,” he says, rehearsed, complete with a smile that has stopped reaching his eyes. He twirls his glass, swishing the golden brown liquid inside.

“Drink up you’ve barely touched your glass and after all we are celebrating,” Shido says, taking a long swig from his own glass, before standing and refilling it. 

Akechi laughs, feeling everything but amused. He looked at the contents of the glass, trying hard not to scrunch his nose at the smell of it. He wasn't a huge fan of alcohol, or rather wasn't fond of his drinking partner. He brought the glass to his mouth, held his breath and gulped down as much as he could. Feeling it burn through his very core. 

“Aha, a bit of an acquired taste, you’ll grow into it,” Shido laughed and Akechi held back a cough. “Now tell me, any new leads on these Phantom Thieves?”

So much for a celebration, he thought.

“Nothing concrete, just an idea. It would obviously have to be someone tied to all those who have had change of hearts. But if we go by the posts on the internet we’ll get nowhere, everyone is claiming to have met, known, seen a phantom thief,” he said, thinking back to the case file Sae and him had been boring over for months now, 

Shido hummed, motioning him to continue. Obviously not content with the information giving to him so far. Akechi took another gulp of the whiskey, this time it burned a little less. 

“But if we look at the cases that sensationalized them, the margins become a bit smaller,” he said, feeling warm already. He flexed his fingers in his gloves as he continued, head spinning slightly from the alcohol in his system. He didn't like it. 

“They have to be young, a group, a group of the unwanted, people who wouldn't turn any eyes.” he says, and through the fog in his mind he starts piecing it together. His mind turns to Akira, he blames the residing blush on the alcohol. 

Akira does turn heads, doesn't he? He has too when he looks like that. 

Akechi shakes his head. Where had that come from? He focuses again on relaying his thoughts to Shido, who was staring at him like he was nothing more than prey. 

“A group who feels dejected by society,” he trails off, staring at the setting sun behind Shido and remembering how Akira looked in the sunset. 

When it hits him it's all at once, he barely manages to not drop the glass in his hands. 

It was all so glaringly obvious in hindsight. 

“You look like you've finally pieced it all together detective,” Shido says, his voice a sneer. Akechi schools his face and stands on unsteady legs, throwing a nasty look at the alcohol cart at his side when Shido isn't looking. 

“I can't say that I truly have, but I do feel closer to the truth than before,” he lies, as his body thrums with excitement and frustration.

How had he not noticed it sooner? The phantom thief leader was in front of his face the whole time. 

Maybe he just didn't want to see it, a small voice in his head says. He bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. He doesn't want to think about it like that. 

“In any case, you have your next target, regardless of if you figure it out or not, this is sure to corner them like rats,” Shido smirks and leans his chin on crossed hands. Akechi wants to break his wrists.

“Yes, Okumura- San correct?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Correct.”

The pit in his stomach opens up once more, swallows and swallows him whole until there is nothing left. 

He takes one final swig of his drink, the alcohol stinging the wound in his mouth. 

“Consider it done,” he says through a burning mouth and soul. 

➖

  
  


He was back in Leblanc, nursing a coffee that never failed to make him feel warm. Akira was working with Sojiro, who had put him to work the second he had walked through the door. Akechi had been looking over another case, flipping between that one and the familiar classified phantom thieves case file. 

The sight of it only brought him dry amusement. As he stared at Akira work from above his cup as he drank. 

“Hope you're not overworking yourself kid,” Sojiro startled him out of his thoughts as he refilled Akechi’s cup. He smiled at him and shook his head, fixing the pieces of his hair that shook loose from behind his ears.

“Justice is never done Sakura- san.” he says, an interview answer and he knew it.

“Please, call me boss.” He said with a smile so genuine it made Akechi’s chest heavy. “And you. Once you're done cleaning you're free,” he addressed Akira, who threw them both a wolfish grin. 

Akechi returned the smile until he remembered Sojiro’s presence and promptly returned to his papers. Face warm and pink. Above him Sojiro chuckled and it didn't help his case one bit. 

Akira finished and joined him soon enough, chess board in tow. 

“You haven't even asked me to a game yet, slightly presumptuous of you no?” he smirked and then it was Akira’s turn to flush.

“You haven't turned me down yet,” he replied smoothly.

Touche, 

They set the board in comfortable silence, the only sounds being Sojiro shuffling around behind the bar and the smooth jazz of the radio. 

“You start,” Akira offered, Akechi smiled and moved a pawn. 

“Can I ask you something?” Akechi started, playing a different game entirely. He wondered if they were both aware of it. Something in his gut pooled with liquid heat at the thought.

“Shoot,” Akira answered, moving his piece.

“Who do you think the phantom thieves are?” Akechi was never one to pull punches. He smiled at the way Akira stiffened with surprise. God, was it always that obvious?  
  


“What makes you think I know?” he deflected as Akechi took his pawn. 

“Nothing, simply asking for your opinion once more.”

“Even if I did, I'm no snitch Mr. Detective,” he replied evenly, chuckling slightly at his own joke. 

“How very loyal of you Mr. Barista,” he moved another one of his pawns. “You've told me once you think they are justice itself, do you still believe that?” he asked evenly, staring at Akira who did not waver in looking back. 

“Yes, more than ever” Akira answered and took one of Akechi’s pieces for his own. He answered with such blind certainty it made Akechi angry and almost proud. Almost. 

They played the rest of the game in relative silence, Akira sometimes giving him an update on his Yakuza boss and whatever new fortune he had recently gotten. Akechi listened and in the end, Akechi won. 

➖

It was another week and Okumura wasn't dead yet. Akechi had been biding his time, going through the outer worldly palace slowly, if only because that's what it took. He swore the terminals were going to slowly drive him insane. 

He was planning of simply relaxing at Leblanc, putting all thoughts of his current missions and homework aside, but the second he stepped through the door he was met with an overexcited Akira, hands gripping his shoulders as he smiled with the power of ten thousand suns. If it had the power to blind him Akechi would gladly go blind. 

“Take me to the jazz club,” is all he said before turning around and walking briskly up the stairs to his room. Akechi was left blinking owlishly behind him, before being brought back to his senses by a laughing Sojiro.

“I gave him tonight off and he just goes off the rails, sorry about that, he’s been talking about that jazz club ever since your last date there,” Sojiro said, laughing softly as he explained Akira’s excitement. 

He smiled on instinct before his blood ran cold.

“Date?” he all but sputtered out and didn't know how to feel at the nonchalant look Sojiro threw his way. 

“Yeah, you should've seen him when he got back, over the moon, wouldn't stop talking about the drinks and music. From the sound of it, pretty nice place you took him too so thanks,” Sojiro smirked at him but it was full of a warmth that was misplaced, completely. 

“I- uh, no-” he stopped at Sojiro’s questioning glance, realizing he didn't even know where to start to correct him. If to correct him. How to correct him. Why hearing about how Akira talked about him made his heart full and shattered all at once. How he had barely come to terms with his feelings for Akira and now Sojiro had apparently read him like a children's book. All at once Sojiro’s eyes filled with a clarity that was terrifying when you are a person like Goro Akechi.

“Oh kiddo,” he sounded so understanding, Akechi couldn't stand it. His hands started to shake as he shook his head in denial for whatever Sojiro was going to say next. “There’s nothing wrong with your feelings for him, in general, you deserve to be a teenager kid.”

Akechi couldn't breathe, he wanted the world to swallow him whole as his head spiriled with thoughts. Was he truly that transparent about his feelings? Feelings he had been avidly avoiding, or at least trying too? Feelings he couldn't understand, feelings that turned to hatred because of it. 

He shook his head once but Sojiro kept going. 

“Sorry if you didn't want me to know, he's just super obvious with his feelings,” Akechi shared in the laugh Sojiro gave but lacking any and all amusement. “But if it's any consolation, I'm not blabbing about it to anyone and neither is he, you deserve your privacy and support, Akechi.”

“Goro,” he doesn't know where it comes from, but it welled in his chest along with thin tears in his eyes, “Call me Goro, please.” he says. 

“Goro,” Sojiro repeats and it had been so long since he had heard his name spoken so earnestly. “Have fun on your date tonight,”

Akechi doesn't have the energy to correct him, nor does he have the time because Akira comes bouncing back down the stairs and all but dragging him out the door. He hears Sojiro laugh once more before he's met with the cool air of fall. 

They don't talk much on the way there, Akechi’s head spinning replaying every single interaction he's had with Akira since meeting him, understanding how they can be misinterpreted, wondering why he hoped Akira misinterpreted them the same way Sojiro did too. Going by what Sojiro said, he did. 

It’s only once they get inside, sipping their sugary drinks in front of the wonderful singer did he get the courage to ask. 

“Are we dating?” because he was never one to pull punches. Akira promptly choked on his drink, Akechi stifled a laugh and all the energy drained from his body once more.

“E-excuse me? What? Where is this coming from? Oh my god,” Akira’s face dawned with realization and Akechi couldn't contain his laugh. “Oh my god what did Sojiro tell you, Akechi?” Akira was flushing scarlett and he had never looked more beautiful.

“Goro. We are dating after all,” he replied, cause he felt like being cheeky.

“That's playing dirty, and I never told him we were dating. I think he just assumed, because of how I talk about you,” Akira supplied.

“And how do you talk about me?” he said, leaning his chin on his hand and closer to Akira’s space. A voice inside him screamed about what he was doing. He knew it was stupid but he couldnt find it in him to care. Not right now.

“Like the sun shines solely to brighten your hair and the moon glows only to make you look more beautiful under its light.”

Oh.

He wasn't expecting that. 

He continues to stare at Akira, who had finished baring his soul to him, smooth talker and so fucking honest. 

Not one to be outdone he surprises them both by surging forward and planting a kiss on him. Luckily the club was dark enough and a bit empty that night that he didn't worry about being discovered. 

Akira kissed him back and Akechi felt like a winner. 

➖

The euphoria of Akira’s kisses continues every single time they meet, and transpires well into the long nights where Akechi is home alone reliving the moments in his head and dreams. 

It only makes sense that that would have some sort of effect on his heart and mind. 

He didn't realize the fact until he was too late until he was standing over Okumura’s shadow and struggled in calling Loki to him. Struggled in manifesting the gun he needed, to complete his task. Instead he was draped in splotches of gold and blue, as his persona’s struggled within him, his mask split down the middle of brilliant red and dull black. 

“What the fuck?” he spit out as it felt like his head was trying to split open from the inside. A pain much too similar to his first awakening. 

The struggle of the continuous shift brought him enough rage to finally bring Loki completely to the front, his outfit completely manifesting itself, along with his gun and his job was finished in one resounding bang. 

➖

Okumura was dead and he hadn't seen Akira in over a week.

Refused to in every way but outright, Always having an excuse as to why he couldn’t see him that night. It was hard at first. But like anything it got easier as the days turned to a week, turned to him not answering his text messages or calls. 

**From: Akira**

**What are you up too?**

**From: Akira**

**I just finished up my hw**

**From: Akira**

**Come over and play a game with me?**

**From: Akira**

**Or don't.**

**From: Akira**

**Miss you.**

Akechi scowled at the messages, as he felt his heart tear at the sincerity in them. He knew Akira was most likely feeling horrible, but was unable to discuss why without giving himself completely away. More than once, on traitorous nights, Akechi thought about telling him he already knew, to take away what must be a heavy weight off his shoulders. Or maybe that would be adding a heavier weight. Akechi didn't know. 

**From: Shido**

**The plan with the phantom thieves is progressing well I assume.**

Ah yes. The plan. 

Akechi sighed before replying affirmatively, before scrolling through Akira’s texts once more. Rereading them as his chest clenched and head hurt. 

Akechi thought back to the weights Akira was carrying and of his own sins that crawled up his back to strangle him every night. Realizing that soon, he would have no choice but crush Akira beneath it. 

**Akechi:**

**Is it too late to come by?**

The reply was instant, Akechi almost smiled. 

**From: Akira**

**NO! You can come!**

**Akechi:**

**Are you sure?**

Akechi doesn't know why but he was begging Akira to change his mind. Knowing full and well it was too late to go. 

**From: Akira**

**I've already cleaned up now you NEED to come by.**

Akechi laughed at that, knowing that despite all his rigorous cleaning the attic will still manage to trail dust along his gloves.

**Akechi:**

**On my way.**

When he shows up to the cafe, hes surprised to find both Akira and Sojiro there. Who would've been long gone by the time in the night. His surprise must've read on his face because Sojiro gave him a fond laugh that made Akechi body heat. 

“Akira told me you were coming by late, I wanted to see you. Been a while since you came by after all,” Sojiro said.

“You _wanted_ to see me?” Akechi questioned, breathless with the implications of it. Surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Leblanc, being told he was missed by Sojiro, was almost too much for him. 

“Of course, was starting to worry if I didn't watch your interviews,” Sojiro replied evenly, unaware of the turmoil growing inside Akechi. 

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to worry you,” He honestly didn't, he figured Sojiro wouldn't notice his disappearance. 

“No problem, don't stress yourself out,” he said as he moved from behind the counter and towards the door. Akechi saw it coming but he didn't move, couldn't move as Sojiro raised his hand and ruffled his hair. The touch was almost loving, it reminded him of his mother. And how she would run her hands through his hair as he slept. It was almost too much and nothing at all as it was over before Akechi even had the chance to flinch away. 

“Don't stay up too late, you two,” he said as he walked through the door, waving a goodbye at a bright red Akira. 

“Don't get any ideas old man!” Akira yelled after him, the banter between them so easy and normal. Akechi was suddenly fueled with rotten jealousy at the display. It quelled slightly when he felt Akira’s fingers dancing on his neck, before pulling him in for a kiss Akechi didn't know he had been missing so badly. 

He didn't think about the phantom thieves and the plan, didn't think about Shido and his justice. He let himself be selfish and drank Akira in every possible way, swallowed his whispers and kissed away every horrible thought and feeling he had been having for years. As he ran his fingers through Akira’s curls, feeling his warmth, he wondered how he would deal when Akira was cold and unbreathing beneath his touch. 

He didn't know how, all he knew is that he would, He had too. For his justice, his victory. He kissed Akira and felt like anything but a victor. 

Weeks passed and the plan continued out perfectly. Soon he was a full fledged member of the Phantom Thieves and more exhausted than ever. Between his public appearance, school work, phantom thievery, detective work and Shido, Akechi barely had time to breathe let alone sleep and eat. Perhaps his lack of eating is the only thing that saves him from fully throwing up as he leaves the interrogation room.

The fresh scent of blood still sitting at the back of his throat as he gagged, remembering the image of Akira dead on the table. He holds his head against his hands and fights a scream, fights a sob that refuses to come. His head spins and twists with sharp pains as he walks, as he talks to Shido, as he’s congratulated for a job well done, as he tosses and turns in his sleep that night. 

All he can do is remember the betrayal on Akira’s face and all he can do is feel nothing but pain. 

He goes his next few days like that, every time he blinked he saw flashes of steel covered in blood, Akira’s shocked and without words, Akira died by his hand. He wonders how Sojiro will take the news, wonders if he cried for him. How he'll mourn for him. Wonders if he's worried about Akechi or cursing his name at that moment.

Akechi doesn't know why he wants it to be both. 

He spends weeks like that for in the end it all to be for nothing. Because the Phantom Thieves send out their final calling card and Akira is right front and center in it. 

➖

The ride didn’t take long, and mercifully no one noticed him or if they did they decided to not bother him with their stupid praises and questions. He spent the majority of the ride struggling not to pace the length of the train, instead barely containing his anxiety in repeated taps of his foot. 

The doors of the train barely opened before he was pushing through crowds, stepping on feet and elbowing anyone who got in his way as he all but ran towards the familiar cafe. 

He ripped open the door, somehow managing not to rip it completely off its hinges. “Where is he!?” he snarled out, he was sure he looked one hell of a picture. Almost a pity (or a blessing) the cafe was abandoned, with no one to see.

The place was inside out. Ripped pages and broken glass everywhere. Chairs strewn about and booth ripped with old stuffing pouring out the cloth wounds. 

It was empty. 

Desolate except for him. Standing at the edge of chaos.

He breathed once, twice. It didn’t calm him down, if never did. Only stroking gasoline lit fires that refused to go out inside him. Until he burned with them too.

Akechi looked around once more, to what was once a peaceful cafe then turned battleground. 

His mind whirled with the implications of it. Wondered what and where Sojiro was. Where he had been taken and if he was still alive. 

Each scenario made his head spin more and more, his jaw ached with how hard he was clenching his teeth. The mess around him has his name written all over it. 

Because of _him._

He shook his head angrily, as his eyes burned.

It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. A mantra that wrapped around his throat but was wholly unbelievable to him. 

Even if it was his fault what did it matter? His hands gripped at the front of his hair, tugging, gripping hard enough to rip strands. The pain the only thing holding him together.

If only barely. 

Even if it was his fault what did it matter in the end! In the end where he’s _won_ what would it matter? A voice inside him called. It sounded so much like him and completely unrecognizable. 

“This doesn’t feel like winning,” he whispered. To no one at all. It was so very far away from the victory he had been envisioning for years. 

His mind flashed with images of Leblanc only a few weeks before.

To when he was playing chess with Akira across the counter, to when he was kissing Akira in the attic above, away from prying eyes, away from anyone who has ever thought of knowing him and into the arms of the only one who could have truly. To when Sojiro told him he was _alright._ To when he kissed Akira goodbye. 

It was all too much and it was all _his_ fault. 

If only he had stayed dead.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he slammed his shaking hands on the counter, the resounding bang echoing in his ears as his palm tore itself open through leather and skin on the side of a broken porcelain mug. “Fuck,” he grimaced, as he watched the blood pool to the surface of the cut and trickle down the side. Barely noticeable as it trailed down dark leather.

“Let’s get that fixed up, nasty cut you got.”

He whirled around to find Sojiro standing there, he hadn't even heard the door open. His heart flooded with equal parts relief and sickening anger at seeing Sojiro was alright. He only watched as Sojiro tsked at the mess in front of him. He could only look as he seethed with rage as Sojiro maneuvered through said mess in search for a first aid kit. 

“I don't want your help,” he spit out squeezing his wounded hand, and was almost impressed with how Sojiro seemed unfazed by his complete change in attitude. “Where is he?”

Sojiro only sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine, detective.”

“I could kill you, right now, I suggest you don’t play games with me,” he sneered.

“If anyone was gonna kill me they would've done it by now, now sit and let me look at your hand,” he said without pause, as if he was tending a crying child and not the murderer that stood in front of him. “I really don't know where he is kid,” he was being honest and Akechi hated him for it. 

Akechi figured he was at Shido’s palace; it was the only place that could make any sense. He just didn't want to believe it, He wondered how Akira reacted seeing a sinking japan, the golden arc and Shido’s cabinet meeting.

“Now that it seems you've figured it out, what are you gonna do?” Akechi wanted to laugh, was he always that easy to read?

“I'm going to kill him,” he said, vicious and self assured. Sojiro only sighed again. 

“You're not,” he said softly, and Akechi opened his mouth to scream because who was he to tell him what he can and can't do? But Sojiro kept talking. “You're not going too, and when you don't I’ll be here.”

Akechi laughed, dry and two steps from unhinged. “Does idiocy run in the family?” he sneered, thinking of Akira, moving towards the door to make his leave, already thinking of the fastest route to the diet building.

“Depends, how much of an idiot do you feel like?” Akechi paused at both being called an idiot and the implications of him being _family._ A massive one, he thought. A giant idiot Boss, he wanted to scream out but he didn't. He couldn't, he had a job to do and he was running out of time. 

He didn't say a goodbye as he stepped out the door, just let it swing close behind him in a decisive end to this part of his life. 

  
  


➖

  
  


He stood in front of them, breathing ragged and beaten. The fight had been long. Akira had been pulling his punches and infuriating Akechi even more. But there he stood in front of them beaten. Anything but a winner. 

“Come with us Akechi, we can do this together,” Ryuji called out to him, despite the way his jaw clenched when he said it, Akechi could tell he was sincere. The rest of them called out to him with similar pleads. 

“God how stupid can you all fucking be?” he snorts, wincing when a sharp pain runs up his side.

“If saving you means idiocy than we’re about to be the biggest idiots because you're coming with us Goro,” Akira said, no, ordered. Akechi sneered, he was so tired of orders. He just wanted to sleep. 

“You can rest when we're home, I promise Goro,” Akira replied, oh, he had spoken that outloud? God he was tired. 

“Joker, I say we knock him ou- Oh what the fuck?” Ryuji’s voice turned frightened as he heard multiple footsteps approach him. He looked up to see the group closer than before and his own face staring back at him. 

“What the fuck indeed?” he gasped, nearly keeling over in shock. “Is this my cognitive version?” He asked no one in particular. His cognitive only smiled and made his blood run cold as he pointed his gun at him. 

“Shido has no use for you if you can't do your job, your one job might I say,” his cognitive told him, voice frigid. He continued his speech, all about how useless and pathetic Akechi was, how Shido was always going to get rid of him, all the ways Shido used him. 

“God do I really sound like that?” he wheezed out once he’d had enough and collapsed, expecting the hard ground but was caught instead by a warm pair of hands. He looked up to see Akira’s familiar mask. “I hate you,” he ground out.

“No you don't, now let us deal with this.” he said, with enough conviction to almost convince him. 

“I'm not dead yet Akira,” He spit, standing up as best he could, before his head burst with a familiar pain, but this time he was ready, standing at Akira’s side, he welcomed it. “If we make it out of this, lets go to the club again,” he told Akira, before stepping forward and ripping off his mask with one booming call of “Come, Hereward!”

➖

He wakes up to the smell of cigarette smoke and coffee. In a bed his bones had grown to love. 

He wakes up to Sojiro smiling at him, a knowing “I told you so smile” that lacks any and all ill will. Harboring only genuine care and for once, it doesn't make Akechi’s chest ache in anguish. Instead it aches in full blown relief.

He wakes to Akira still asleep next to him, snoring away as Morgana purrs away on his chest. Outside the frost climbs the windows, his tears feel like molten snowflakes on his face as he sobs into Sojiro’s arms.

He wakes up in Leblanc. And for the first time in years, feels free. 

He’s won. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I wrote all this because of that scene of Leblanc being a mess and I wanted Akechi in that so, Here we are. almost 7k words later. 
> 
> This has so many of my headcanons just wrapped up into one fic. Anyways I hope you enjoyed, like always its fun to write goro centric fics because Im in love with him. Also yeah I dont know how his third awakening happens in royal cause i refuse to play cause third semester has me an emotional mess so. yeah. thank you for reading :)


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